Damian Wayne Imagines

Imagine #3- Second chances

Damian ran down the hallway.

Why did every second person wanna kill him? Jealousy was strong, he guessed, and why wouldn't they be jealous of him? He was hot, amazing, smart, and a million more things.

The strangest thing, was that it wasn't even actual enemies that wanted him dead most of the time. It was his own family.

‘Damian Al Ghul!’

‘It's Damian Wayne.’

Well, he always thought it was Damian Wayne.

And then Batman— Stupid and selfish Bruce Wayne... Disowned the lad.

‘You're a freaking loser,’ Ra's yelled. It wasn't like him to use words so sugarcoated.

If he wanted, Damian could beat Ra's one handed. Kill him. But he wasn't a killer anymore. Not after Batman was almost killed. Not after Dick and Jason were both gone.

Life was so fragile; it was funny how much people took it for granted. He didn't entirely believe everyone deserved life either, but that wasn't for him to decide. He wasn't hella religious but that was for God to decide. If there was a god.

A part of him, a tiny, measly little inkling, missed Grayson. The rest of him just burned with rage. He forced himself to feel nothing but rage... He couldn't afford anything else. It was too costly, even for the son of a billionaire.

He chose just to keep away, pretend he was emotionless, and fight. For what cause... They called it justice. He was no villain, but he was sure they had caused more injustice than justice.

He started across the street, hastily up a building and down an alleyway. It was dark, and the moon was full, bright white with a faint red glow. Red, his favourite colour...

But the street below him was also red. It wasn't meant to be that way.

He bent down, touched the tar and looked at the substance on his hand— the blood on his hand. He looked in front of him, and there lay his father, bleeding like a lion's kill, writhing in pain.

‘Damian... Please... Please... My son...’

Damian wanted to roll his eyes and yell “So now I'm your son!” but he knew better. He was raised better. He felt differently.

Batman, Damian's father, clasped his hand gently. Which was a funny word to describe Batman with. Gentle.

‘Save me...’